The castle here floats upon a cloud. The highest one. Below are the lights of the nobles’ estates—each on a cloud of its own. Below these are the homes of the minor gods—the commoners, as the nobles call them, for technically everyone here is a god. Those who are gods, yes, but whose lineages are not as fabled and long, whose powers, in comparison, are mundane: the gods who instead of moving mountains can only shift pebbles; who can grow any flower, but cannot control life itself; who can maybe make something from nothing but cannot create an ocean to wear to a party simply because they wish
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